The Heat of the Moment
by CriticsCubby
Summary: It's a fluff-piece, guys. I'm trying to get out of a writing-rut.


**The Heat of the Moment**

**Disclaimer -** I don't own anything Sherlock/Elementary related.

**Summary -** Sometimes it's not easy to hide the obvious.

**A/N -** I'm desperately trying to get out of my writing-rut so here's something short and sweet!

* * *

"Finally!" Sherlock all but shouted from the front door. He scooped up the tiny brown package and walked inside.

Watson, pouring over notes from some cold cases, didn't even look up when he came in the room. He watched, silently, as she tried to make connections he had already failed to. It was both painful and beautiful. A board creaked under his foot, she looked up.

"What is it?" She asked, not quite understanding his expression.

"Nothing.." He replied, not able to remember the reason he went in search of her in the first place.

"Oook." She was trying to decide if she wanted to press further or if she should just accept his presence in the doorway and continue working when she saw the small box in his hands. "What's in the box?" She pointed at it, curious.

"Hmm?" He looked down at his hands, tapped his fingers on the box, "Oh, right! Yes, I've been waiting _weeks_ for this to arrive. Come with me, I want to show you something!" He quickly turned on his heels, and headed for the kitchen.

Grumbling a bit at the interruption, Watson put aside the notes she was going over and followed Sherlock. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement, even in her annoyance, though; when Sherlock was excited, it tended to be contagious.

Once in the kitchen, she saw him searching for something in the cabinets. He picked up a bowl, looked it over, put it away. Next, a large plate, looked it over, and put it away. Finally, he apparently found nothing wrong with a saucer and carried it with just the tips of his fingers to the table. Setting it down gently, he then grabbed the still-wrapped-package and turned to address Watson.

"While studying the biomedical applications of different metallic compounds, I was reminded of a case I worked on back in London; it was pre-Irene, pre-addiction, pre-clarity, really." He shook his head a bit, as if trying to rid his mind of thoughts of ghosts and broken promises. "Anyway, what I remembered was this!" He gestured to the box in his hand.

"You remembered the importance of the postal service?" She joked.

"While I do agree that the post serves as an integral part in our society, Watson...No. What's in this box is rather hard to come by and, if I might be so bold, one of the most extraordinary things you will ever see. And, no, I'm not trying to emulate Justin Timberbloke, or whatever his name is, from that SNL sketch." He looked up at her, gestured to the box, and joked, "Besides, this box is much too small for that."

Watson's jaw dropped momentarily, then she just shook her head and laughed a bit. He finally got the box open and she leaned closer to get a peek of its contents. Inside the box, were what appeared to be ice packs, surrounding a smaller plexiglass cube containing a metallic-looking rock.

Pulling the plexiglass cube out carefully, again with only the tips of his fingers, Sherlock looked at Watson, eyes alight with excitement. "Inside this cube, is a property called Gallium. It's a fickle piece of science; when cold, it's a solid, as you can see. However, when it warms only slightly, it becomes a liquid." He set the cube down on the saucer and opened the lid.

Watson moved closer to him, to get a better look at the object within the cube.

"It's beautiful." She said simply. They were shoulder to shoulder, leaning over this shiny piece of metal. She could hear his steady breathing, he could hear her heart beating.

Turning his head to look at her, he asked quietly, "Would you like to hold it?"

She dropped her head and laughed at the phrasing.

"Honestly, Watson, is your mind always in the gutter?" He brought a hand to his face then gesticulated emphatically at the cube, "The gallium, I was referring to the GALLIUM."

"I'm sorry! You're the one that brought up the sketch!" She lightly smacked his arm with the back of her hand.

"Well?" He asked, tone still slightly annoyed but amusement peaking out of his eyes.

"Oh! Yes, I would like to very much." She held out an open palm as he started to pry open the cube.

"I thought you might." He had the lid off the cube now and picked the rest of it with the tips of his fingers. He shifted so that the cube was only in one hand, and, barely touching it, he lifted the rock-like piece of metal and placed it on her palm.

"Wow, this is pretty cool, Sherlock." She lifted her palm up to eye-level and watched as the center of the gallium started to melt.

Sherlock set down the now-empty cube and placed his hand underneath her open-palm. He could feel her pulse quicken at the contact but he waivered not. Almost instantly, the crystal-shaped metal morphed into a puddle of silver-white goo. She giggled at the feel of it. Sherlock could feel it start to slide from between her fingers into his own.

"Interesting, isn't it? That when in only one of our hands, it was able to stay almost fully-formed, but in the warmth of the two of us together, it only lasted a moment."

Watson took her eyes off the gallium and looked up to see Sherlock looking down at her, liquefied metal completely forgotten in their hands.

-fin


End file.
